


All New Stuff

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F, Femslash, First Time, Kissing, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately after the kissing comes all the other new stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All New Stuff

They go to Erica’s apartment, because it occurs to Callie after the kissing that while her place is closer, her place contains Cristina Yang, and the combination of Erica and Yang would completely destroy the mood that’s starting to simmer between them.

And so they sit on the couch and stare at each other, inching closer in this way that is crackling with desire, with longing, with teeth run over lower lips because Erica has a massive oral fixation that Callie’s been noticing more and more. Callie is so aware of Erica and her oral fixation that it’s making her shoulders rise, and her panties feel tight and her heart race with nerves and anticipation.

Because Erica’s a _girl_. A woman. A strong, intelligent woman whom Callie is in the tank for. But all Callie knows about having sex from women, she knows from porn, guy fantasies about threesomes, and the two episodes of The L Word she watched before deciding that there had to be better lesbians to learn from than those girls.

The air is like, alive, and they’re barely talking. Callie is sitting cross-legged on the couch with her hand on her knee and Erica’s hand is on top of it, and Erica’s thumb is rubbing the back of her hand and they keep looking at each other. But only for a second, because it’s somehow HARD to do right now.

“Your place is nice,” Callie says, because her whole body is tingling and all she can feel is Erica’s hand squeezing hers. “Why don’t we ever come here instead of hanging out at my couch in the filthy craphole I share with Yang?”

“Because we drink a lot, and your apartment is closer than mine, and we don’t like paying for cabs,” Erica replies. She takes a deep breath, like she’s going to say something, but then just sighs and smiles sort of naughtily, but shy-naughty.

“Ooh, you were thinking nasty thoughts,” Callie teases, swaying back and forth slightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Erica replies. “I was actually just wondering what color your bra was. Because I admire the effectiveness of your bra.”

“I bet that was what you were thinking,” Callie replies, letting naughty into her voice as her free hand pushes her shirt to her shoulder, showing off a purple bra strap.

“Purple,” Erica says, leaning forward. “You look good in purple. Where did you get your bra?”

Now Erica’s thumb is stroking the outside of Callie’s thigh just above the knee and Callie’s lips are dry so she has to lick them and they are so close to each other that Callie can hear both of their breathing.

Callie shrugs and leans closer. “I don’t remember,” she says, shyly brushing her lips against Erica’s and trying to balance as she twists her one hand to squeeze back. Erica kisses back and scoots closer so that her leg is sort of running into Callie’s knee and Callie is off-balance but doesn’t feel like stopping just to fix something like balance right now.

“We’re gonna have to,” Erica says when they stop for a second. “I don’t want to fall over and I feel like I’m going to fall face first into your lap.”

Callie’s skin starts to burn because oh god, that’s where she keeps seeing Erica in her X-rated fantasies that are overly peppered with bad L Word-inspired images. Face first in her lap.

But not now. Later, because there’s so much good stuff now.

“I don’t know how to fit together right,” Callie says, licking her lips and uncrossing her arms and shifting around so that Erica can be closer. “You know I haven’t…with girls…right?”

“This is shocking new information,” Erica says with her poker face before letting a hint of a smile cross her face with a snort-laugh. “Don’t…don’t overthink, I think. We can…I don’t know…”

She starts running her fingertips over Callie’s arm and it’s a little like starting over. Everything is so meaningful even when it’s not. Like when Callie was in high school and an awkward virgin and everything was more sexual because touching like this was intense and sexy and proof of how in love Callie. With Jeff St. Johns or whoever he was, that first boy she made out with for hours and hours.

There’s something really decadent about the idea of making out for hours and hours, touching another person over every inch of her body. Making an oval on the palm of Erica’s hand with the very tip of her finger, over and over. Kissing her wrist, the feel of her hair, tracing her cheekbone.

Flicking the tip of Erica’s nipple with her tongue. Like this. The way that they aren’t overthinking things, they’re just…Callie doesn’t know…learning the parts of each other.

“You’re so pretty,” Callie breathes, the peachy-rose nipples, the soft blonde hair, the surprised but delighted looks flickering through her eyes.

“Ohhh,” Erica replies, running her hand over Callie’s shoulder and wetting her lips quickly. “You don’t get to see what I’m seeing.”

“I get to see you,” Callie says, cupping Erica’s breasts, feeling how heavy they are, the different textures of skin, the softness of her, the flush of heat coloring the tops of her breasts. “Can I keep touching you? Just like this? Because I want to.”

There’s this ragged edge of breathing and a shiver. A quick, almost nervous nod. Callie feels tingly and hot everywhere, because she’s just. Wanting everything, but wanting to do it right and being afraid but not exactly, because this feels right. It feels…comfortable.

No pressure. If she kisses Erica’s stomach, Callie doesn’t have to go up or down. Maybe later, but not now. Now is all about having the freedom of the moment.

She smells good. And her hands are on Callie’s shoulders, kneading and tickling and pulling at her.

Pulling her up so that they can kiss again, heated mouths meeting each other, Erica’s tongue licking the front of her teeth, Erica’s fingers fiddling with the back fastenings of her bra.

Their hair keeps falling in each other’s eyes, blurring everything, homemade soft focus. Erica pushes a hank of hair away, reaching up and cupping Callie’s face.

Callie dips down and kisses a spot just below Erica’s ear while Erica licks the top of her ear. Their hands are running all over each other, as Callie’s body thrusts up, rubbing against Erica, not quite sure if she’s looking for a cock to grind against or if this is okay.

She does know that doing this is making her wet. That she feels luxurious and teenaged at the same time from getting so hot from what is at best topless making out.

“Please,” Erica gasps into Callie’s ear. “Don’t stop.”

“I don’t — I don’t want to, but I–” Callie bites on Erica’s neck. “You make me so hot that my jeans feel…”

Callie takes Erica’s hand and puts it on the seam of the denim between her thighs. Where she is radiating heat.

“Show me,” Callie whispers, excited and nervous and fluttery. “Show me what to do.”

The side of Erica’s hand presses against her suddenly and Callie squeaks. Erica snickers and then leans up and finds one of Callie’s breasts to play with, kissing the lower curve before biting and sucking on the same spots.

“Yes,” Erica says, pinching the tip of Callie’s nipple into a point. “Oh, yes.”

The hot ache that pulses from that act…Callie sinks down closer for more kissing as she spastically paws at the side of Erica’s breast. More, there has to be more, they need to be nakeder and spend hours and hours touching and kissing and licking and Erica finds the sweet spot on Callie’s neck and she whimpers.

Callie doesn’t want to stop. She fumbles at the top button on her jeans, shimmying them down to her knees while still stroking all the bare skin under her.

Then she gets stuck and has to shift away. Erica chuckles again. Her own hands flutter over the bare skin of her stomach, sending another stab of lust through Callie.

She yanks off her jeans while Erica very casually gets rid of hers, trailing her fingers over her arms, smiling lazily and running her teeth over her lower lip.

“You’re so mean,” says Callie. “Laying there teasing me with that sexy act of yours.”

“I’m not mean at all,” Erica says, tracing an endless figure eight on her right breast. “It’s not really very comfortable on my couch. I think we’ll have a lot more fun when we transfer to the bedroom, even.”

Callie exhales. “Oh…” she says. “But you said don’t stop.”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Erica replies, looking at Callie with smoldering, undammed want and adoration.

“Is your bed more comfortable?” asks Callie, leaning over Erica, and moving her hand down between soft, warm thighs.

She’s on fire, and pressing her hand against the thin, practical panties, Callie can feel soaking wet skin waiting for her. Callie rubs up and down, working the edge of her hand against the fabric and that wetness.

Erica’s eyes are wide and laser-focused into Callie’s as she pushes back against Callie’s hand.

“I bet your bed is totally nice,” Callie breathes, licking and blowing on Erica’s neck. “Big enough for us to do…whatever. Once I decide to stop.”

The little sound Erica makes is desperate and tiny, like a puff of air mixed with a cry of need.

Callie presses harder, uses the heel of her hand to press against the ridge of bone and hard nub she can feel beneath the fabric. If it’s wrong, she thinks Erica will stop her, or at least stop riding up against her hand, rolling her hips and arching her back so deliciously.

Everything is so different, but the same. Callie remembers when she was first with George, how she loved to watch his eyes roll back into his head when she’d do the simplest things, like tongue the back of his neck, or blow on a place she licked. How making him happy was _neat_ , how it made her hotter than hell.

Erica is softer, because duh, woman, but her eyelids are fluttering closed and she’s got her mouth half-open, apparently forgetting how uncomfortable her couch is. Also, the clit is a slippery target, and Callie’s still not sure she’s doing it right, because she knows from experience it’s easy to do it wrong.

Maybe she’s doing it right, because Erica’s not trying to move Callie’s hand, she’s just rolling her hips and whimpering, a red flush spreading over her chest. Callie moves faster, fascinated, turned on, wanting very much for it to be her turn.

Then there’s this sound and Callie can see Erica biting down on her lip, arching up higher before releasing shuddery, stuttery breaths that sends a pulse right through Callie’s clit. Somewhere during all the touching, Callie got really, really wet and throbby and didn’t notice because she was focused elsewhere.

Erica sinks down, eyes opening, looking at Callie. Callie who leans down for a very gentle kiss.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four before Erica pushes herself up and takes Callie’s slightly damp hand. Brings it to her mouth and gives her an open-mouth kiss on the palm and then each fingertip.

They don’t say anything, because talking would be distracting. There’s a light sheen of sweat and sex on both of their bodies, and Erica stands up, tugging at Callie’s hand with a smile that is sleepy and insistent.

Callie nods.

Yes. This. More of this.

Yes.


End file.
